


Mission Planning

by propinquitine



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: mcsmooch, First Kiss, M/M, strategic use of calendar reminders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-20
Updated: 2009-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:22:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24965173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/propinquitine/pseuds/propinquitine
Summary: John's got a mission, he is going to execute that mission, and he's very carefully not thinking about what happens once the mission's completed.
Relationships: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Kudos: 22





	Mission Planning

**Author's Note:**

> Minor spoilers for 4x04 Doppelganger; set post-canon (late season 6, roughly); beta by my lj-less sometimes-roommate M.

When he kisses Rodney for the first time, it's not spurred by a near-death adrenaline rush, or fueled by too much beer and moonlight, or demanded by the high priests of M3X-wherever before the native people will even think about becoming trading partners with the Lanteans. It isn't nearly that spontaneous.

John hadn't really meant to _schedule_ it. He'd just thought, back when he'd been fighting the crystal entity and Rodney had come sauntering down the gateroom stairs and into John's dream, ready to save the day, he'd just thought to himself, "If I still want to kiss him this much in a thousand days, I'm doing it." (Well, first he'd thought, " _Damn_ , I want to kiss him." Then came the thousand days part.)

It wasn't like he ever expected to follow up on it. It was more likely that he'd just lose this, this _thing_ he had for Rodney, or he'd die, or something else would happen that would cancel out the vow. (Never Rodney dying. That was never an option.) He'd almost forgotten it, or made himself forget, through the several iterations of Rodney finding the woman he was going to settle down with, and then realizing, oh, wait -- no.

But he'd never really forgotten over the two-almost-three intervening years, so when he sits at his desk on Day 999, alive and having more of a thing for Rodney than ever, and gets a pop-up alert from his calendar program ( _Tomorrow's Reminders: Day 1000/K-Day_ , and it had been a _boring_ staff meeting when he'd programmed that in), he's not surprised. He also knows he's not backing out. If he can't keep his word to himself, he's no use to anybody.

So he waits, the next day, for a good time, good place, good angle. Rodney's running late so there's no way to corner him before senior staff, and then he's off to one of the main labs and, yeah, DADT's dead and buried, but John would still rather not have an audience. The mess at lunch is out for the same reason, and he's just beginning to berate himself ( _Nice stalling, John. Can't just man up and do it, can you?_ ) when Rodney solves the problem by inviting himself over to watch _Blade Runner_ again. And then Rodney's bustling away to the labs again, but that's okay: John's got a plan, now.

Well, as much as "wait for Rodney to show up tonight, and then kiss him" constitutes a plan.

It works, though. Rodney wanders into his room at 2100 hours, talking about some jumper modifications Zelenka's trying to get his approval for and twirling the flash drive with the movie on it between his fingers. The jumper mods sound interesting, but John's got a mission, he is going to execute that mission, and he's very carefully not thinking about what happens once the mission's completed.

"Hey," he says, putting down the comic book he hadn't been reading and rising from his seat on the bed.

"And he says it'll increase their shields by 8%, but I haven't verified his calculations yet, so -- hey?" Rodney points over his shoulder at the door. "Didn't I do the hello thing when I came in?" He frowns. "I meant to."

John waves his hand toward the bed. "Nah, you probably did, I was just distracted." _This is not the mission, John. Quit stalling._

Rodney peers around him at the comic book. "What, is that a new one? Are you holding out on me?"

"Yeah, no, it's not a new --" John shakes his head. "Look, that's not important."

"If you've found a new black market for entertainment, I'd say that's very important. Who'd you have to bribe, and what's their price?"

John laughs. "No, Rodney," he says, and the internal monologue's back: _Still not the mission, John. The mission's not to stand around and chat, the mission is_ \-- "Ah, fuck it," he says, and hooks a hand behind Rodney's neck and pulls him in.

Rodney's reflexes have gotten pretty good over the years; he only stumbles half a step, in surprise, before he gets a hand up between them to steady himself. But John's focusing on his mouth, the way Rodney's lips slide against his own, strange but familiar. The way Rodney's breath comes in little hitching gasps as John tongues lightly at his upper lip before dropping his hand and letting him go.

"Oh," Rodney says when John pulls back. He's got his hand on John's chest, but he's not pushing him away. Rodney clenches his fingers into a fist, gripping the fabric of John's t-shirt tightly, and John winces a little at the tug to his chest hair. Rodney's blinking, staring at John's mouth, and John's seen his piecing-things-together look often enough to know that Rodney's brain is clicking rapidly along, even though his gaping mouth makes him look kinda slow. John's pretty sure that Rodney can feel his pulse hammering away beneath the hand on his chest; that's probably one of about a thousand data points that Rodney's working with right now.

" _Oh_ ," Rodney says again, and now he's flattening his hand, smoothing John's t-shirt and pawing at his chest in the process. He thumps John on the sternum a few times, hard, like he wants to snap his fingers, but won't move his hand away to do it. " _Oh_." He looks John in the eye, his own eyes blue and wide and astonished. " _That_ 's what this is."

"That's what what is?" John asks, swallowing past his heart, which is currently lodged somewhere in his larynx.

" _This_ ," Rodney says impatiently, "this, us, you and me and all of the -- everything, and," he slides his other hand up along John's neck, eyes widening, "and _kissing_ , how did I not notice before now that you have the most ridiculous lips -- oh, god, don't _pout_ , that's just -- " and Rodney's kissing him, this time, hard and hot and slick, licking into John's mouth with his tongue and tugging at his lower lip with his teeth. He nips soft little bites at the divot there, and the hand on John's neck slides up into John's hair, making his scalp tingle and his heart stutter, and all John can do is flex his hands on Rodney's hips and _hold on, hold on_.

Eventually, Rodney breaks off with one last lick at John's lip that John meets with the tip of his own tongue. This makes Rodney hiss and crowd even closer into John's space, holding him close with the hand still buried in his hair, their foreheads pressed together as they both catch their breath. John's hands are low on Rodney's hips, easy and comfortable, and he's not sure how he'll ever make himself let go. "Yes, okay, yes, _this_ ," Rodney says, "This is what's always been -- how did I ever -- god, John, this is so much, I just, just want to _crawl inside of you_ ," Rodney pants, wriggling even closer and kissing him fast and deep and sloppy.

"I'm not a tauntaun, Rodney," John snorts, smiling against Rodney's cheek.

"I didn't mean _literally_ ," Rodney says, pulling back. "God, you're a dork." He's smiling, a real smile that creases his eyes at the corners in a way that John doesn't see on him enough. Or hadn't, before; who knows what he'll get to see, now.

"Said the pot to the kettle," John says. He meets Rodney's eyes and then ducks his head, grinning; it's overwhelming to have Rodney so close, his palms bright points of heat on John's chest and shoulder, his hips solid under John's hands.

"But why did you -- " Rodney shivers as John sneaks a thumb under the hem of his shirt and strokes the soft skin at his waist. "Hnnng. I mean, um, why today?"

John looks up at him, shrugging as he flattens his palm to Rodney's side. "Seemed like a good day for it."

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the January 2009 McSmooch challenge, originally posted here: https://mcsmooch.livejournal.com/125087.html.
> 
> These days, I'm over on Tumblr [@propinquitine](https://propinquitine.tumblr.com/), mostly reblogging other people's excellent posts.


End file.
